Fracture
by misswhiteblack
Summary: He's just far too easy to fall for ... AmyLouisAimy - For Amy, Happy Birthday!


For my darling Amy as a birthday gift _(a very belated birthday gift). _I hope it's everything you ever wanted.

**Rated M  
><strong>_Amy, I hope you're old enough to be reading this.  
>Bad language and scenes of a sexual nature.<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Frac<strong>_**ture****.  
><strong>AmyLouisAimy

It was dark and I was over  
>until you kissed my lips and you saved me.<br>_- Set Fire to the Rain, Adele_

**.**

He's all too easy to fall for, with sparkling blue eyes, red-gold hair and prettypretty words that just seem to fall from his lips. It's his easy charm, his good looks, his excellent body but it's also the way he always notices everyone, not a single person escapes his gaze. He'll talk with the plainest girl, laugh with the thickest bloke and encourage the smallest, most fearful child. Then again he is a Weasley and they're well known for their friendly attitudes, even if Dominique could take a lesson in having more patience and maybe also dull that sharp tongue of hers

Girls just want to be with him and boys want to be him but they can't be him because he is him and there can only be one.

She's the girl who has always been there. She's cheerful, funny and maybe occasionally a little outrageous but her friends love it so she never cares about what anyone else thinks, well, not often anyway. She cares about what he thinks of her but then she always has and they've been firm friends since they first met in second year, paired together for a Potions project, even though he's a Gryffindor and she's a Hufflepuff.

She asked him once what he thought of her and he frowned in that bemused way that he does and said, "You're Amy, what else is there to think about?" So she laughed at that but then later felt like she analysed it far too much than just a friend would do. Still, she turns a blind eye to whatever little part of her showed it's colours that day and ploughs on as the girl who has always been right there, there for him because she'd never be anywhere else.

She moves in with him after Hogwarts because they are best friends and there is nothing weird about that. They hit the town together, taking it by storm, LouisandAmy, the Gryffinpuffs. She can't remember where that had even come from but she guesses that they were probably drunk but their friends always call them it now in teasing manners. Maybe somewhere, deep down, in that part of her that she turns a blind eye to, she knows that she adores it because he is hers and she is his.

She remembers all too well the girls he brings home with him and the expressions on their faces when she comes along with them and they realise that she lives with him. It's not weird at all, she always wants to scream, I'm his bloody best friend. She stubbornly refuses to accept that males and females can't ever be friends without one of them being attracted to the other no matter how short the period.

Those girls never matter though because they never last with him, they never have and maybe she doesn't realise but she always sighs with relief when he never sees them again or they storm out in the huff never to return.

"Is that the latest one gone now?" she calls to him as she hears the word "dickhead" screamed as the door slams behind yet another beautiful girl that just can't keep Louis to herself. She glances up from the Quibbler which has been disguised to look like Heat magazine due to the amount of muggle women that seem to inhabit their flat for short periods of time.

"Yeah," Louis responds as she comes into the room. Her eyes linger on him, for maybe too long but she has to see the way he's standing, in his bare feet wearing black trousers and a white shirt, his red-gold hair is disarray where he's pushed it out of his eyes. She smiles at him and he beams back come to sit next to her on their enormous couch which they bought from a muggle store call fsd or dsf or something of the like.

"Why are girls all so clingy?" he complains leaning back into the grey cushions. "It makes no difference whether they're magical or muggle they're all bloody clingy."

Amy just shrugs. She doesn't know what to tell him. She never tells him what she thinks of these girls that he brings home, that he might even give a few days out of his life because there is no point. Why should she trouble herself over something that was no more than a silly irritation and was bound to be gone before long?

"Maybe you should stop picking them up for nightclubs and parties then," she suggests letting her eyes wander briefly back to the Quibbler. "Try picking them up in coffee shops or bookstores instead, they might suit you better."

"Maybe," he says with a sigh suddenly becoming interested in the lining of the cushion he has his arm draped over and she's uncomfortable aware that his fingers are brushing her shoulder occasionally. "I still maintain that my cousin James is the luckiest bastard alive. Olly's amazing."

"They have been best friends since they were born," Amy reminds him lightly staring determinedly at the page of the Quibbler but not really seeing what is on the page.

"True. Maybe I'm destined to always be a magnet for clingy girls."

"Fuck me, stop being so pitiful," Amy tells him firmly closing her magazine to look at him sternly. "You're wallowing in self-pity now. You know you love your silly flings."

Louis laughs.

"One day you'll say that and someone'll do it," he responds cheerfully. "I certainly enjoy my silly flings, whilst they last. Speaking of flings, why do I never see any random men here with you?"

She meets his sparkling gaze straight on and then rolls her eyes.

"Well I thought that would be obvious," she says with a grin. "I never bring men back whilst you're here. I don't need a bun fight in the living room as you try and protect me because you think the bloke is an asshole."

He laughs again throwing his head back in a way that reminds her very briefly of Errol Flynn.

"Oh Ames," he says patting her shoulder as he gets up, "why can't all girls be like you?"

**.**

She's determined to ignore that little part of her that she has squashed down inside because nothing good will ever come of it. She can't even admit to herself, even slightly, that she might be attracted to him because he's her best friend and she lives with him and that would definitely be weird. So she ignores that little part and sets out to flirt with any other attractive guy she meets. Louis continues to bring wanton floozies back to the flat and get rid of them as quickly as he always does.

She can live with the way their lives are because it's fun and in the end it's always LouisandAmy. She didn't think things could change so suddenly.

"I've met someone," Louis tells her in delight one evening after she's just trailed in from work.

"Fuck me, Louis," she says. "Let me get in the door."

"No, Ames," he says. "I've met someone."

She's barely just put her bag down before he's all over her, blue eyes shining in delight. She can immediately tell that this is different and she feels her heart sink a little. (Okay, all the way into her shoes).

"Who? Where?" she manages to beam brightly even though she's tired and, now, slightly down.

"I took your advice," he tells her with a grin, "and I didn't meet her in a nightclub. She used to go to school with us but she was the year above us."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago actually," he explains. "I didn't want to tell you until I was more confident but she's coming over tonight to meet you."

Amy just manages not to gasp. She had noticed that Louis hadn't been bringing women home but he had been staying somewhere else overnight so she had assumed that he was trying to give her a little bit of space.

"What time is she arriving?" Amy asks wondering if she has time enough to dart into her bedroom to change and slick some make-up on. She's aware that she looks tired and drawn and there is no way she wants to go up against his new girlfriend looking like shit.

"Should be here any moment," Louis tells her glancing at his watch and the doorbell dings.

She feels her heart sink just that bit more as Louis beams broadly and then leaps up to go and answer the door. She quickly brushes her hands through her brown hair trying to make herself just that bit more presentable but before she can do much more Louis is back with a beautiful girl in tow and she knows that she could just never compare.

She's taller than her with a mop of unruly blonde hair and grey eyes that seems to shimmer like slate in the sun. She's got delicate features and a beautiful mouth the colour of a rosebud. She recognises her, only vaguely, as a Slytherin from the year above them in school and she hates her with every little bit of her not just that bit she's been hiding.

"Amy, this is my girlfriend, Aimy," Louis introduces the girl with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, beaming with pride. "Aimy, this is my best friend and flatmate, Amy."

The girl, Aimy, smiles at her like she's sharing a joke over their name and Amy pulls up a smile instead of glaring at her like she wants to. She knows she could never be this girl and she continues to torture herself by looking at her but only because she doesn't want to feel that slow and painful death that would come from seeing the pure delight in Louis' eyes. She wants to say something along the lines of "oh so you're Louis' latest, are you?" but she won't.

"Fuck me, you're pretty," she says without realising she's speaking aloud.

Aimy looks taken aback but Louis just laughs.

"She says that all the time," he reassures his date. "I keep telling her someone will take her up on that."

" Sorry, Aimy. It's nice to meet you, Aim," she tells the girl smiling feeling slightly embarrassed about her previous comment. Honestly, sometimes she wondered if her brain even had a filter between it and her mouth. "It's funny that we share the same name."

_And a love for Louis but that is where the similarities end, _she might have added but she didn't.

"It certainly is," Aimy replies a little cautiously. "It's great to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you. I didn't realise you actually lived together."

Amy watches her glance between her and Louis but she just smiles, feeling rather vacant.

"We're best friends," Louis tells her gently in a way he's never been with any of the other girls he's brought home.

Yes, their best friends and that was all. Amy can't stand it. She just wants to scream, to run away but she can't move. She just sits there transfixed by the beautiful couple in front of her and it's killing her to look at them.

"Well, we'd better get going," Louis says suddenly glancing at his watch, "or we'll miss our reservation."

"It was lovely to meet you, Amy," Aimy says with a smile before they are gone leaving her to curl up on the sofa and cry.

**.**

Now she's always there and she's so damned friendly that Amy just can't stand it. She wants to curse her, hex her, scream at her to get out and leave them alone but she doesn't. She shares her papers with her, teaches her how to use the television (which was harder than teaching Louis), bakes cookies with her and lets her borrow her shoes. She just wants to hate her in peace but she's just too fucking nice for that and she dies a little more when Louis starts fondly calling them "his girls". Yuk!

It's been a couple of months now and apparently she and Aimy have become really close (yeah, let Louis think that). They've been on shopping trips, done lunch, giggled over a television programme whilst eating ice cream but all Amy wants is for her to leave and never come back. She hates to admit that she likes the girl and if she had been anyone else but Louis' girlfriend she could have been a really good friend.

One night she just can't stand it anymore so she hits the town with a group of friends including the ever cheerful Mad, who she is certain will cheer her up. After an hour though she's certain that nothing will cheer her up and she begins to knock back drink after drink slowly becoming more and more inebriated until she loses her inhibitions and starts to think, _fuck Louis, I don't need him._

There's a guy and he's lovely to look at and she can't believe she's managing to chat him up. From his response she thinks she's doing pretty well but she feels weird, like it isn't really her and that she's watching herself do it from somewhere else. She can't remember his name but she laughs hysterically (drunkenly) at all his jokes and somehow they end up back at her place.

"You're so beautiful," he tells her as she pushes her down onto the couch in the middle of the living room and as she lies there beaming up at him she wonders when Louis installed the spinning feature.

She kisses this boy whose name she can't remember aggressively, begging him silently to make her forget and she can feels the weight of him on her hips and she shudders as his hands slide up her dress, over her knickers to her waist pulling the dress up with him. He's kissing her neck and she's staring up at the ceiling feeling very drowsy as the top of her dress slides down to her waist where the rest of it has now gathered. She giggles drunkenly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he plants kisses down her chest towards her breast and she gasps as his warm breath dances across her right nipple.

She wiggles her hips slightly to entice him further and she can feel him hard against her hip. His hands are sliding down her sides and his mouth is pleasantly engaged in rousing her from her drunkenness into a different state.

Suddenly the weight of him is gone and she feels cold without the warmth of him pressed against her. She sits up clutching her dress to her as she hears the boy exclaim "What the Hell?" She blinks and then again because Louis is standing in the living room with the boy clutched in his grasp, looking angrier than she has ever seen him and she thinks his hair looks like flames.

"Fucking touch her again and I'll fucking kill you," Louis roars giving Amy a little bit of a fright because she's never seen him this angry and she's his best friend after all.

"What the fuck is it to you?" the boy snarls back struggling to get out of the death grip Louis has a hold of him with. "If I want to fuck the whore, I'll fuck her. It's none of your frigging business."

Amy feels entirely sobered up at the point where Louis punches her erstwhile lover square in the jaw sending him reeling across the lounge. The boy falls on his arse his jaw red from where Louis' fist had connected. She tries to get up from the couch, embarrassingly aware that her knickers and her boobs are both on display.

"Louis," she say feebly but he pays no attention to her as he moves menacingly over to the boy sprawled on the floor and looms over him like a giant over a child.

"Get the fuck out of my house," he growls. "If I ever see you're fucking face again I'll beat it bloody. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

Complaining that Louis might have broken his jaw the boy gets to his feet and staggers towards the front door. He's obviously not going fast enough for Louis because he comes up behind him, grabs the back of his t-shirt and drags him to the doorway. He wrenches open the door with a fury Amy's never seen and flings the boy into the hallway.

"Now fuck off."

Louis closes the door. Amy sits back down. What the hell was that about?

"Now you see why I don't bring men back to the flat whilst you're here," Amy tells him weakly as he comes back into the living room. He doesn't smile, he just glowers at her from where he is standing a metre away. Amy watches him as he rakes a hand through his hair and seems to dither about something. Then he's striding towards the couch and catching her wrists in his hands.

"Don't you ever fucking do that again," he hisses at her and Amy's taken aback by the ferocious look in his eyes.

"Why not?" she demands annoyed. "I'm allowed to see however I want. You're my best friend not my boyfriend."

"You can't just go fucking random men on our sofa," he yells shaking her slightly. "What if he'd been some fucking weirdo and hurt you. What if you wanted to stop and he decided to force you?"

"Well, I'm a witch remember?" she practically yells back trying to tug her wrists from his grip. "You bring women here all the time but I bring one man back whilst you're in and you go nuts."

"I can take care of myself."

"So can I," she responds inflamed. "What are you trying to say? That you can go around and fuck as many girls as you want but I've got to be celibate for the rest of my bloody life?"

"Not celibate no."

Before she can even respond his lips are crushing down on hers with a force hard enough to bruise them and for a moment she just sits there in shock before her body begins to respond. She kisses him back harshly, putting all her aggression over Aimy and all the passion for him that she had kept hidden into the kiss. She forgets about her dress lying around her waist and the fact he could probably see her breasts because all she can think about is the little electrical jolts on her skin where his fingers are trailing up her back. Her own hands are clasped rigidly around his neck and she can feel own of his own twisting in her hair.

Suddenly she's clambering onto him, straddling him, pressing her body against his and feeling the muscles of his chest against her through the thin white shirt he is wearing. Their breathing his hot, heavy, panting and she adores the taste of firewhiskey on his tongue which she nips playfully with her teeth. His hands are sliding down her back again, past her dress and over her arse, which he grabs and then stands up.

She doesn't know how he makes it but he's throws her down onto the white covers of her bed. She bounces slightly staring up at him and his blue eyes looks as though they could be dancing flames. He slowly pulls her dress down over her hips and legs until he's able to throw it onto the laminate flooring and then he's on top of her, kissing her again with the same force as before. In her desperation to have him naked along with her she tears the buttons of his shirt and he seems almost as eager to lose it as he fights it away from him.

He trails kisses down her shoulders, necks and collarbone as her clumsy fingers fumble with his belt buckle and then the button of his trousers. Only when he is free of then does she turn her attention back to the way he is trailing kisses between her breasts, making her skin tingle and her hands are tangled in that red-gold hair. It's heaven, she realises. This is heaven.

It's not long before her knickers disappear in a desperate snap of elastic and his boxers join them on the floor. He stops kissing her for a moment to look at her and she gazes back up at him not faulting one single thing about him, especially not his glowing blue eyes which are a mix passion, impatience and something somewhat softer.

She mouths two words at him and his smile is heartbreaking but a moment later all she can see is the stars in her eyes and all she can hear is herself gasping.

**.**

She lies against his bare chest with the white bedcovers wrapped around her naked body and she still feels as though it's all just a dream that she's going to be rudely awakened from at any moment. She's delirious in her happiness and keeps looking up at him to check it is still him. He smiles at her every time she does that and squeezes her to him, his fingers caressing her thigh. She knows her hair is a mess and that she doesn't look perfect but she doesn't care because it's Louis and he knows her far too well to care about her hair or if she is wearing make-up or not. It's then that it comes to her and she doesn't want to ruin the moment but she has to ask.

"What about Aimy?" she asks him in a whisper soft voice, her shoulders turning rigid waiting for a blow.

He feels her turn stiff and his fingers tilt her chin up until she's looking at him.

"I've got all the Amy I've ever needed right here," he tells her.

And maybe it's a little cheesy but it makes her want to sing but she's a terrible singer so instead she wraps an arm around him and hugs him tightly.

"Fuck me, I love you," she tells him with a grin.

"Again?" he says with his eyebrows popping up in faux surprise.

"Haha, you know what I mean."

He smiles down at her.

"I love you too," he says dropping a kiss on her head, "but I'd be willing to act upon the first part of your sentence."

**.**

He's the one who is all too easy to fall for and she's the girl that's just always been there.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading this and now you may review but please don't favourite unless you do.<br>I would like to say sorry to Aimy because she's not in this so much as was originally going to be. Don't hate me.  
>Kerr x.<em>


End file.
